​KƐTƐASESHƐ NE PRƆYƐ

The mind is a scary part

A part which houses and nurses all it is given

Be it in light of good

Or in doom of bad

No ripe orange on a flat ground

Falls far from its tree

And a rotten palm nut amidst the many

Carves vampire teeth on the others 

Even after battling fires 

To bite tongues in disgust

Hence our bitter taste on the tongue of life

II

Kojo Dzapkpasu’s little coins taken from the purses of parents

When eyes are lost in jurisdiction,

His parents awareness perceived as a little cotton in the wind

Storing laughter in silence

Is a seed being watered by days

Packing like a gift of bomb to detonate

Into the future 

Splashing shame and horrors

Even quenching the flames of happiness and love

It is a seed that shoots a plant

A plant or a little branch that becomes a tree

III

So the government is like a desert without an owner

And I am a farm hand without a supervisor

With no eye in sight

Why will I work like a bull?

Ha! A goat claims to be destroying the paint of many houses

Until its skin pops bald out of its encounters

IV

Ama Achaa has a whole hole flowing with waters of spring

I am a perfect fish thirsty for a swim

Ama needs me as a ladder to climb a hurdle

Without a swim, I won’t ever bend

Ha! Continue cheating the crab

Your rear is opened to the eyes of God no matter how  thick your clothes!

V

I am a trained protector

One with skills of lions and lionesses

With the authority of the state

I am the order of the road

The hands for a catch

The eyes for the safety of my land

Walk into my way without the stench of a token

And I will see you broken

Power takes what it needs

Even many from less authoritative fields get their due

Why shouldn’t I?

Ha! The law is a whipping rope with two ends

Pray for no day your victim will hold the other end!

VI

Amazing how big fishes sail through the net of the law

As small fishes, like mythically huge souls, get stuck in the same

Robbers kill few at once

But leading beings fondling public coffers

Kill millions in every turn

Yieee! Why do you aim for your intestines

And blame it on hunger?

VII

We are our own Satans

Building the worst hell in our living quarters!

We are our own roses 

Tilting our thorns into our skins!

We are our own flies 

Eating deep into our own sores!

We are the poisonous rain seeping through our perfect pores!

From mouths shut like doors of whores

Close to their pastors’ stores

To eyes whose visions are bought in wiping

From ears shut like a bankers safe

To skins which hide bruises to promote rot

We are all the tsunamis destroying our progress!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 8, 2017